It was old and well-worn, but in good condition; the sheath was suspended from a narrow black belt, meant to buckle round the waist. I did not care to put it on there; I got the man to wrap it up for me, paid him for it, and came away. Presently, in a quiet street, I tore away the paper wrapping, and buckled the thing round my waist, setting the sheath in such a way at my back that I could easily reach the hilt of the knife. Then I buttoned my coat, and went on towards Lincoln's Inn Fields. When I got there I found that Olivant had not yet arrived; it flashed across me in a moment that he did not even know yet that I had secured the rooms, and that he would be waiting until I could reach him, and give him the keys of the place. Cursing myself for my carelessness, and fearing that he might decide after all, on some whim, not to take the rooms, I hurried off to his flat. I climbed the stairs to reach it, and knocked at the door. After some little delay he opened the door himself, and peered out at me; flung the door wide, on seeing who it was, and let me in. He was in his dressing gown, and as he strode across the hall and into his sitting-room I remembered suddenly that the manservant had been sent away the night before, and that Olivant was alone there. A sudden feeling that I might do it then swept over me, and my hand instinctively went to the knife at my back. I was sane enough to remember in a moment that I had been seen coming and going from that place over and over again; to remember also that young Millard had waited outside there, and had forced his way into those rooms, and had been ejected from them. That momentary impulse on my part, if carried out, might ruin everything; I must wait until Murray Olivant had voluntarily hidden himself. He was in a vile temper; in sending away his manservant he had forgotten that he could get no breakfast without the man's assistance. I hurriedly set to work to prepare coffee; he fumed about the rooms, roundly cursing me, and declaring over and over again that he'd give up this fool's business, and remain comfortably where he was. "I've been in too much of a hurry," he declared. "I might have known I should have to suffer every sort of discomfort; I ought not to have been afraid of what Millard would do. It's absurd." "The rooms are taken, and they're very snug and comfortable," I reminded him. "You'll have the laugh of every one if you slip off there. The thing has been so well planned." "So it has," he replied, with a smile breaking over his face. "By Jove!--you're right there, Tinman; it's been devilishly well planned. As soon as I've had my breakfast I'll slip out--(by the back way, Tinman, for fear of accidents)--and later in the day I'll make my way to Lincoln's Inn Fields. I'll wander about for a bit--enjoying a new sort of freedom; dine somewhere quietly, and go there this evening. Have you got in a stock of what I shall need--wines and spirits, and so forth?"